


Jolly Old Saint Venomous

by raeldaza



Series: symbi-ohno-sis [2]
Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christmas, Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, It’s a Christmas rom-com. Alien-symbiote style., M/M, Venom tries to make Eddie feel better through Santa-esque means and things go as you'd expect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-24 21:54:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17108801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raeldaza/pseuds/raeldaza
Summary: Eddie explains Santa to Venom. Venom thinks this sounds like a wonderful idea.





	Jolly Old Saint Venomous

One fringe benefit of sharing a body with the space equivalent of the creature from the black lagoon - Eddie rarely gets cold anymore.

He isn’t sure if Venom runs hot, or if it’s just a side effect of being intimately and constantly intertwined with a creature with a working cardio-vascular and hypothalamus system. Whatever the reason, he’s especially glad to have him close by this winter. While in the summer it mostly led to Eddie sweating through each and whatever shirt he chose to don, with it being December, it mostly just keeps his extremities from going tingly.

It’s Christmas Eve, and an hour and a half into Eddie’s spontaneous and ill-considered vacation to New York City.

Venom is still keyed up from the flight — **_Thousands of years of mounted alien knowledge have led me to the firm belief that creatures should obey gravity_** — and so Eddie has opted to walk from the airport, hoping to calm them both before checking into the ratchety hotel he booked on some Japanese website.

And, the walk. It’s cold.

It’s still dark outside. The night sky is black velvet, stars invisible, but flakes of snow are softly falling. It’s as quiet as New York gets, with the zing of electricity from the streetlights hearable, and just the faint sounds of sirens and a dog barking from a street away. The air is brisk and dry, his lungs aching with every inhale, and Eddie can see puffs of white breath each time they breathe out. For once, neither of them are talking.

Eddie’s, for lack of a better word, playing.

He’s walking on the small ridge of the sidewalk that’s elevated, as kids are wont to do, his hands straight out from his sides for balance, one foot directly in front of the other.

He can feel Venom paying attention from inside his head, alight in curiosity as he feels Eddie walk, unbalanced. He makes it a few more steps before losing his balance, falling the few inches until he’s just walking on normal sidewalk again. Venom quickly takes control of the foot, careful not to twist the ankle, and he rights their balance with no trouble.

“Thanks,” Eddie mumbles, warm with soft affection and complete contentness.

**_Of course._ **

He can feel Venom wrap around his palm, something he’s taken to doing after feeling what it does to Eddie (namely, make his stomach roll heavily and cheeks warm pleasantly). He clutches back, squeezing gently, and lets the sweet happiness of the moment fill his chest.

It’s going on seven in the morning, and the city is just beginning to rise.

* * *

The hotel, for being $43 a night in _New York City,_ is extremely festive. Also a bit of a shithole, but the crickety wooden beams paired with the uneven stone floors almost add to the Christmas ambiance.

The entire outside is lined with Christmas lights – red, green, blue, pink, gold. There’s tinsel draped over the front desk, and garland wrapped around the old wooden staircase handrail. A tree stands in the back corner, with a bright yellow star atop, branches bursting with ornaments obviously handmade from other patrons.

 ** _I love Christmas. It’s so_** — ** _relaxing._**

“Yeah, as relaxing as a sack of cats, maybe,” Eddie grumbles, pocketing the key he was just given. It’s an actual key — large and brass and heavy — if that gives any indication of the age of the place. 

 ** _Why are you such a Grinch, Eddie?_** Venom asks, far too much pointed glee in his voice. Eddie’s come to learn there’s little Venom enjoys more than making a stupid but relevant human cultural reference.

“Fine, it’s fine, I guess.” He climbs the stairs two at a time. “Just not a celebratory guy.”

 ** _It’s my first Christmas,_** Venom points out, and Eddie feels an immediate pang of guilt. Venom’s right, of course, and God — if Venom was a child or someone else who had never experienced Christmas, Eddie would try a lot harder to be cheery. It’s just — hard, he supposes, to hide his true feelings from someone sharing his head.

* * *

The whole trip was prompted by a well-intentioned and poor-resulting phone call from Anne.

He had almost dropped his cell when he saw who was calling – she hadn’t contacted him since the wedding, and he knows why. It aches, but just a little, and he’s fully expected to be severed from her life in the name of closure.

Which is what he blames the greeting of, “Shit, Anne, you?” on.

“Me,” she had confirmed, sounding like she was rolling her eyes.

“Wow, okay, sure. What can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

At that particular moment in time, Venom had been slung around his shoulders like a floppy scarf, complaining of tiredness but really reeking of needing contact. Eddie had been poorly making tacos, and some of the lettuce had somehow ended up on Venom’s head, which he had licked off with his absurd-at-any-size tongue.

“I’m a real peach, Anne, you know that.”

The skepticism in the pause was insulting. “It’s just – look, I know Christmas is hard for you.”

Venom had perked up at that.

**_Why is Christmas hard for you?_ **

Venom had taken an endearing yet irritating fascination with Christmas. He had overly enjoyed Halloween, and when the decorations for Christmas had started popping up in department stores, Eddie had been _sure_ he’d be able to avoid another season of holiday over-exuberance. After all, why would an alien creature with a taste for flesh and a knowledge of the cosmos give a shit about nonsense like bells in songs and trees inside?

The absolutely-not-stolen-from-central-park-what-are-you-talking-about Christmas tree in the corner of the room and frankly obnoxious amount of poorly-decorated cookies spoke volumes to how wrong Eddie had been about that.

“I got past wanting a Hallmark Christmas when I was about ten, Anne. It’s fine.”

“I know, you say that, you’ve always said that.” He can feel the concern through the phone, and the kindness of the gesture does strike him – calling up an ex just because she knows he may be hurting, and wanting to make sure he wasn’t a late-stage-jenga tower. “But I also know you have a habit of not asking for help and saying you’re fine when you’re very not fine.”

“Not fair – I totally asked for help with the whole alien debacle.”

**_DEBACLE? Do you care to rephrase?_ **

“Oh yes,” she had said, tone dry as the Serengeti. “You’ve been entirely honest about the alien situation.”

“You don’t have to check up on me,” Eddie had said, wanting to avoid that entire strain of conversation. He isn't positive what she knows and has no interest in confirming suspicions. “I’m doing good. I don’t know why you have this idea that I’m like, malfunctioning.”

“You function fine,” Anne objects. She waits, just long enough that he’s sure he doesn’t want to hear the next thing out of her mouth. “Maybe not always in a rational, human way—”

“Hardy har har.”

“Eddie,” and there was her I-am-a-lawyer-listen-to-me-now voice. “Christmas is hard on a lot of people. I haven’t forgotten how you used to put on a smile for my parents, and the second their backs turned, you always got all still and quiet. You cried on more than one of our Christmases together.”

“I didn’t always handle everything all that well, fine,” he admitted, suddenly exhausted. He felt Venom curl around his shoulders a little tighter. In normal situations, Venom be interrupting a lot more – but he had always liked Anne, and gave them their space to talk, at least a little. “You’re always in control and I’m always this weepy mess.”

“When your mascara is $32, there’s no time for crying,” she had joked, and kind phone calls aside, Eddie was suddenly far too aware that it was no longer Anne’s job to be his emotional support.

“I’ll be fine. I am fine. I am going to New York City, actually, on vacation.” He hadn’t picked it from thin air but from the TV screen, which had been giving a news report about some new superhero on the scene who seemed to focus on Queens.

The phone call had ended a minute later, and, not wanting to turn into a liar as well as a possibly-at-least-accessory-for-murder, he had booked his tickets not an hour later.

* * *

The hotel hallway looks less like something from the Shining and more like something from his college frat, which he actually isn’t entirely sure is better.

Their room is on the second floor, a handful of doors down, and Eddie is all up in his own head, trying to pep himself up for the vacation, when Venom yells at him in their head.  

**_MISTLESTOE, EDDIE!_ **

A burst of images briefly takes over Eddie’s mind — green plants, a Hallmark movie, kissing in the elevator, a music video to _I Saw Mama Kissing Santa Claus,_ a bunch in a department store.

Eddie looks up – and yup, there is something that’s rather green and spriggy above their doorway.

**_Eddie! WE MUST PARTICIPATE!_ **

“What if someone sees?

**_WE WILL DECAPITATE THEM._ **

“We will not.” Eddie shuffles his shoulders and looks around, left, right, confirming they’re alone. “Okay,” he sighs. “A quick one.”

**_Excellent._ **

He and Venom are getting better at this; most of their sexual encounters take place with Venom still inside Eddie — yes, he knows how that sounds, but that’s not strictly what he _means_ — but kissing really is something that requires two separate people. 

Venom’s head pops out of his shoulder and quickly leans in. Eddie closes his eyes and lets Venom drag him forward, ‘hands’ clutching Eddie’s shoulders tight, and he allows Venom to take all control.

Eddie tried — once — to dominate, and Venom legitimately stopped, pulled back, and _laughed._

_Laughed._

Eddie’s never put much stock in his own masculinity, but still, that was a nice kick in the ego.

But that, combined with the fact that there’s something oddly pleasant about letting go, being taken, has Eddie fully giving control almost every time.

Although this kiss hardly qualifies, given it lasts about three seconds and his tongue barely even hits the back of Eddie’s throat before he’s pulling back.

**_Christmas has some positives, huh?_ **

It’s times like these that Eddie wishes Venom took form more often, so he could elbow him in the ribs.

* * *

Venom put on the old cartoon of _Frosty the Snowman_ seemingly at random. Eddie isn’t sure if he’s actually paying attention or not, but his head keeps bobbing to all the songs, so maybe.

He really doesn’t want to be a downer to Venom, who truly seems to be enjoying himself, and who, despite being the source of 99 of Eddie’s problems, is also quite possibly the only thing keeping him sane and functioning and may possibly be the reason the sun still rises in the morning for him. It's a really intriguing change of pace; Venom acting like a human, while Eddie bravely opting not to do that.

Eddie doesn’t want to be the buzzkill, but he spent almost every Christmas alone and poor and hungry up until he met Anne, at which point he spent a many (read: every) Christmas crying alone in a bathroom because he didn’t know how to properly work through his emotions of being loved through the holidays.

So, yeah. Maybe polite detachment wasn’t that bad of a thing to offer, in comparison.

While Venom bops to the beat of a snowman marching into a town, Eddie’s pulled out his laptop and started in on some of the Mr. Love backlog.

He’s read through two, one focusing on a girl who received a bad present (a set of lingerie not her size. Not that bad) and an older woman who accidentally read a text meant for her husband (clearly a booty call. That bad), and he’s back to almost mindless scrolling through the net of unread messages.

**_Scroll faster, Eddie!_ **

Eddie’s hand stills.

“Why?” he asks, suspicious.

**_Because you have the finger dexterity of an arthritic monk, and I want to see the end of the backlog._ **

Eddie knows his diversion tactics better than that, by now.

He scrolls back up, slowly, despite Venom tapping on the insides of his temples to purposefully give him a headache. He isn’t sure what he’s looking for, but when he almost passes right by a subject line of “Hey Fuck You” and the drumming abruptly stops, he figures he’s seen it.

He clicks on the email and up it pops.

 

> Hey, Fuck You Mr. Love,
> 
> I followed your advice on what to give my boyf and he DUMPED ME. AT MY PARENT’S CHRISTMAS PARTY!! IN FRONT OF EVERYONE!!!!!!!! because I obviously didn’t UNDERSTAND HIM. You RUINED MY CHRISTMAS YOU BASTARD. HOPE YOU'RE SATISFIYED AND FIRED.

He doesn’t even remember this one.

With a turning in his gut, he clicks on an earlier message and – ah yes, the fishing pole, so the ‘boyf’ could do, quote, something new.

“Win some, lose some,” Eddie tries to joke, which is pointless, because he knows Venom can feel the churning in his stomach and the guilt weighing down his bones.

He shouldn’t care. Everyone with a functioning cerebral cortex knows that Mr. Love isn’t actually a romance expert and can’t double for a relationship counselor, but not everyone who reads Tiger Beat has a functioning cerebral cortex, and Eddie still feels bad.

**_I would have liked a fishing pole._ **

“What would you have used a fishing pole for?” Eddie snaps. “You can just catch them with your oversized teeth-for-mouth.”

**_Did you have an extra shot of bitch in your espresso this morning?_ **

Eddie breathes out slowly.

* * *

In the hours that pass, his mood has taken a noticeable turn for the sour.

He’s curled up underneath the hotel comforter - a heavy white and gold number that tucks nicely around his knees and over his head; he has the heater blasting, just a little too hot, warming his insides, making for a nice, calming contrast to the iced-over windowpane and gently falling snowflakes outside the city scene. His laptop is softly playing Christmas carols, and the soft, melancholy tune of _I’ll Be Home for Christmas_ isn’t doing much to lift his mood. He finds himself staring at the hotel door, at the faux-Christmas wreath hanging over the number, B54, made up of fake evergreen branches and winterberry holly.

What was he even thinking, a vacation? Like that would do anything but just emphasize the season.

"God, I can't do anything good, can I," he mumbles to himself.

**_We should go out._ **

Eddie buries his head further into the pillow, pulling the comforter over his head tighter.

**_Eddie._ **

“No.”

**_Eddie. I want Cheetos._ **

He still feels bad about the Mr. Love letter. Just add that to his list of personal failures. Might take a few hours to read through that ever-growing laundry list.

**_Eddie! I WANT CHEETOS._ **

God, what if that couple had stayed together and had a kid, and that kid cured cancer? Is Eddie to blame for cancer not being cured? Is that on him?

**_EDDIE!!!_ **

He throws the comforter off.

Cancer, he can’t solve. But Cheetos - Cheetos, he can at least do.

* * *

**_What is that?_ **

Venom turns Eddie’s head towards a massive inflatable Santa.

“It’s a decoration,” Eddie mumbles quietly, hoping the insanely loud _All I Want for Christmas is You_ playing overhead drowns the talking to himself out. “You know, to put on your lawn and shit. Show you’re festive.”

**_I know what a decoration is, Eddie, I am not an imbecile._ **

“Who put a snake in your boot? Christ, you asked.”

**_I meant what is it a decoration of? I have seen this figure elsewhere._ **

“It’s Santa,” Eddie answers blandly, a little loudly. “What are you talking about?”

**_What is Santa? Is this a god you humans worship?_ **

“Didn’t you just say you’re not an imbecile?” Venom grabs his hand and sends it flying - hard - into the display of candy canes to his left, sending them all tumbling to the ground. With dismay, Eddie stares down at the pile of broken candy now covering his work boots. “That was unnecessary.”

**_Tell me what Santa is or I will bring you into the wine aisle._ **

“Jesus, fine.” Eddie, as he shakes off the broken candy canes and quickly heads off to the opposite side of the store to avoid confrontation, wonders when he became a bad person. “It’s just this fairy tale for kids. This fat elf in a red suit comes down your chimney and brings you gifts on Christmas Eve. Gives them to all the good boys and girls in the world.”

**_Why?_ **

“What do you mean, why?” Eddie grumbles. “Because he’s a good dude and shit, I don’t know.”

**_He gives them to every child on Earth?_ **

“Every good one.”

**_Does he have teleportation powers?_ **

“No, he has reindeer.”  Wow, when did Cheetos get to be over $4 for a bag? “They pull his sleigh. He goes down the chimney on people’s roofs.”

He’s starting to regret wearing pajama pants to the store. They’re thin, and every time the sliding doors open, he feels a cold breeze where he absolutely does not want to feel a cold breeze.

**_EDDIE._ **

“When you yell like that, my head gets all tingly.”

**_EDDIE. You’re saying a man goes down a chimney and leaves presents for good children, to be nice?_ **

“It’s not real,” Eddie finds it necessary to point out.

**_I want it to be. I want to be Santa._ **

“Sure, I’ll get your resume up on LinkedIn today.”

Venom takes over his hand, and Eddie drops the bag of Cheetos in the middle of the aisle.

Some lady with her daughter look over and give him a side-eye-glance that he’s getting really used to, and he gives them a bland smile in return.

“Knock it off,” he whispers.

**_Santa TODAY, Eddie._ **

“Wait, are you serious? No. No way.”

**_I want to bring gifts to good children. We can be GOOD, Eddie. And real!_ **

“We can buy a toy and donate it—”

**_That’s not Santa, Eddie!_ **

They’re absolutely never going to make it through the checkout aisle at this rate. With a resigned sigh, he picks up the bag and replaces it on the shelf, and shuffles out of the store, stopping right outside to lean against the brick siding.

He’s jarred slightly by the brightness of the day. Winter skies are always so clear, so bright - like the sky is making up for the dullness of the deadened land. He can tell, though, that night is about to fall.

**_Santa, Eddie? We can do something good._ **

It’s strange what love will make foolish people do.

“Okay.” Flashes of the next few hours spin in front of Eddie’s eyes. “Okay, fine.”

* * *

They’re having an actual fight – a real, honest fight – outside a Walmart on Christmas Eve at seven in the evening.

**_I will NOT let you BUY gifts!_ **

“We aren’t _stealing_ toys for children! That’s defeats the whole reason for the season!”

**_Isn’t the reason for the season that pale baby—_ **

“Be quiet.”

He tries to take a step into the Walmart and Venom drags his leg right back out, cementing him just close enough to the automatic doors that they refuse to close. The greeter on the inside is giving him a cold look that Eddie refuses to meet.

**_It’s not helping if it costs you money._ **

“Who are you trying to help, me or the kids?” Eddie grumbles, and is then surprised by Venom’s complete silence in response. “V?”

**_We will take the toys._ **

“No!”

**_Are you really arguing that multi-billion mega-corporations deserve to hoard toys on shelves, more than poor, needy children deserve to have one thing under their Christmas tree?_ **

Eddie wonders if it’s a symptom of Stockholm Syndrome that that actually made some sense to him.

* * *

“No Santa suit.”

**_But Eddie—_ **

“I let you just rob Walmart, destroy a security camera, and keep a goddamn pokeball _god knows where_ inside me, and now I’m hauling a garbage bag full of shit on my literal back – I’m drawing a line.”

 ** _Just a hat?_** Venom prods hopefully.

Eddie sighs.

“If you take it off a bell ringer’s head I will never forgive you.”

He probably shouldn’t have put that idea in his head.

* * *

“Oh God, oh god, oh god,” Eddie chants.

A roof. He let Venom talk him into a goddamn roof.

On the plus side, the Santa hat didn’t make it past Venom appearing and re-evaporating.

On the downside.

He’s clinging to the chimney — an actual brick chimney, what are they, anyway, Ireland? — and his feet are miraculously balancing on the half-a-foot wide area where the slanted pieces of the roof meet. The wood paneling is covered in snow, several inches deep, and he can feel the snow starting to slip into his socks, though it is difficult to notice through the haze of panic from being up so high.

His fingers clutch the brick so hard his knuckles turn stark white, and he can feel his entire body to a full twitch whenever he catches sight of the ground, so very, very far below.

He shuts his eyes and swallows heavily through the dryness of his mouth, and tries to ignore the shortness of his breath.

 ** _Do you want me to take over, again?_** Venom asks, politely even, given the current of frayed amusement Eddie can feel behind the words.

“Yes!” he all but shrieks as an answer, and refuses to feel any embarrassment for it.

**_Pansy._ **

“I don’t know, I think Darwin would be proud of me.” Eddie’s eyes are starting to legitimately hurt from how tightly he’s closing them. “Oh god, can we get down? We can’t go through a chimney any way - we won’t fit. Just go through the front door.”

Eddie can feel Venom’s attention shift.

It takes him a moment to place where it’s focused.

“Oh no.” Eddie swallows. “No, Venom, _no—"_

He can feel Venom take over, settling around him, and he can feel most of the tension fade from his body as he ceases control, and becomes a passenger to his own limbs.

While the tension in his body that was in response to the physical terror of heights fades, the mental tension of being passenger to someone about to do something incredibly stupid mounts.

_This is a bad idea._

**_This is a merry idea,_** Venom counters, and then they’re jumping - high, high, high, and then pointing straight down towards the chimney, like a diver into a ring.

It breaks. Of course it breaks. They’re three hundred some pounds of black alien goo, flying with momentum towards an old, shoddy brick target that’s about two feet too narrow in diameter to dream in its little chimney dreams of fitting them.

The brick goes flying on impact, managing to hit just about every other degree mark of a circle, making impressive target practice of the neighbor’s window, the car in the driveway’s sunroof, and the porch roof below.

They’re about eleven miles away before Venom stops jumping roof to roof, finally settling down somewhere on an apartment complex in Queens.

“You know I have to send them a check to cover the cost of replacing that, right?”

**_We have different definitions of the phrase ‘have to’ apparently._ **

“We ruined their Christmas.”

**_But we made the Christmas of all the houses we jumped on. The noise of someone jumping on their roof - all those kids must have thought it was Santa._ **

Definitely Stockholm Syndrome.

* * *

“What do you mean, keep going?”

They’ve stopped in an alley way, and Venom is still in charge, so what he wants sort of goes in this situation, but Eddie truly hopes his bewildered apprehension is getting through to Venom. Venom’s stubborn, purposefully obliviousness sure is.

**_Since when do we give up on the first try? Everyone on this planet would be eaten by my kind if that was our way._ **

“Just be quiet and do what you’re gonna do,” Eddie replies with resignation.

The snow is drifting down, slow and quiet, and the tracks they leave behind will fascinate a high college kid for three full days.

* * *

“I have a feeling,” Eddie says, standing and brushing off the debris from his shoulders. God, his cheek is _definitely_ going to bruise. “That my last words are going to be _oh shit_.”

**_You say “oops” a lot more than an average human, as well._ **

“Thanks so much, really, that’s very sweet of you to point out.”

* * *

“Door,” Eddie reminds Venom helpfully, after catching Venom looking to the (thankfully bare) roof.

Venom walks up to the door, heavy steps muffled slightly by the snow, thankfully, and then, with no hesitation, promptly punches a hole through the glass window of the door.

* * *

“Door, and don’t _punch it,_ ” Eddie reminds Venom helpfully, after they’ve moved on from Queens to Greenwich at a fairly rapid pace.

The apartment complex left its door unlocked, and they had squeezed in undetected. They’re currently on the second floor hall, standing in front of the first door on the left.

**_And what am I supposed to do to it?_ **

“Just check if it’s open.”

**_This is New York, no door is going to be open._ **

“We’ll go until we find one that is. I am not having another fire alarm go off. Getting arrested on Christmas isn’t on my bucket list.”

**_How was I supposed to know it had a system connected to the fire department?_ **

“That was a learning experience, V,” Eddie says, coloring his voice with as much patronization as humanly possible. “A learning experience is one of those things that says, you know what you just did? Don’t do that again.”

**_Helpful. Was getting your shirt caught in the garbage disposal one of those as well?_ **

Occasionally, Eddie gets the urge to shout at the empty night sky and demand a refund.

* * *

In Brooklyn, in two hours, they find four homes unlocked. None have children to leave gifts for. Eddie’s starting to think there may be a correlation, there.

* * *

Eddie has to admit, it feels pretty good leaving the kit of How to Make Slime under a glowing Christmas tree. Moving slightly outside the city to actual houses was a decent idea – although, at the first house, the five-ish-year-old started screaming at sight of Venom and Venom’s first instinct was to try to eat her to shut her up, prompting a most likely strange from the outside internal battle for control that threw them out the window. But, other than that. Leaving the gift still feels pretty nice.

* * *

“You _cannot_ eat someone’s family dog on _Christmas!_ ” Eddie all but yells into thin air, feeling a desperate helplessness that is, unfortunately, not all that new. “It’s amoral!”

**_You know what rhymes with amoral? Tasty._ **

Venom starts to crowd the dog into the corner – and god, the dog is _still_ barking, they have a total of what, eleven seconds before someone gets up to check on it? – and Eddie starts to genuinely worry that he’s going to have the soul of a family pet blackening his conscience for the rest of his unnatural life.

“Most people have a harder time saying ‘tasty’ to moral relativism!”

Blue and red lights and a loud, wailing siren suddenly fill the living room – and oh. People can stay in their rooms and still call the cops. That’s a thing.

Venom is in control, currently, though Eddie pulls hard, internally yelling until Venom dissolves back.

**_Why do you want control? We could run._ **

“We are not running. I don’t want you to be seen.”

A knock on the door.

**_We are going to get arrested._ **

“We deserve to get arrested.”

**_You said it wasn’t on your bucket list._ **

A louder knock.

“You know what else wasn’t on my bucket list? Pegging with something that doubles as a puddle of tar, but here we are.”

The door bursts open, and in plows two cops – a young woman and an older man, both with guns raised, shouting something or other that’s drowned out by Venom’s, **_Eat him?_**

“No eating!” Eddie raises his hands and falls on his knees.

**_I want to eat him._ **

“This is a _we_ situation,” Eddie hisses, letting his wrists get handcuffed. “And I say no!”

* * *

He definitely regretted the pajama pants.

The cell has a concrete floor and bench. He feels like someone should be playing harmonica, just to complete the Christmas-Clink ambiance.

He drags his hand against the metal bars, listening to the faint plonk plonk plonk sound it makes.

“Think the ghost of Christmas past is going to come and explain to me all my mistakes?” he absently asks Venom, aloud.

**_If any ghost comes for you, I will fight them._ **

“No, no,” Eddie tries to interrupt. “I’m not—"

**_I will kill them, and rip open their throats—_ **

“Forget it.”

The cop directly across from the cell - young woman, mid 30s, brown hair, expression like she’d rather be drinking curdled milk than filling out whatever form is on her 1995 Windows computer - is starting to look at him funny.

* * *

The Christmas lights strung along the station are twinkling - off and on, off and on - and Eddie finds himself transfixed by the rhythmic flickering, the green and red putting him in a small trance, calming Venom into a content, quiet presence in the back of his mind, like a cat on a lap.

There’s a Christmas station playing overhead, crooning _Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,_ and there can’t be more than four police officers in the entire building.

It’s almost peaceful, in an odd sort of way.

“Honey, I’m sorry.”

Eddie pries open his eyes.

The cop who arrested him – the young woman – is on the phone, with her head in the palm of her hand.

“I know I promised, but my boss changed his mind, and he wants me to work until 3pm.”

A long pause, where Eddie assumes the kid is responding. Given the way the women’s shoulders slump, he can imagine the response to that.

“I know, but—”

The hand in the women’s hair tightens, and Eddie doesn’t have to have enhanced senses to tell she’s about to cry.

“Hey, V,” Eddie murmurs. “Wanna get out of here and do a good Christmas deed?”

 ** _Yes,_** is the response, with an almost worrying amount of excitement.

* * *

It takes a good ten minutes for the woman to leave the room, only a few seconds for Venom to bend the bars, another four to locate the Captain, only one to scare the Captain into literally wetting his pants and agreeing to let the woman go home, and then another sixteen to wait to confirm that she’s left – which she does, with a large smile on her face and a scarf around her neck – so, all in all, not bad for a half hour.

**_Eddie, Eddie! We did good! We did good! Eddie!_ **

_Yeah, bud,_ he thinks, letting Venom take them back. _Yeah, we did something good._

* * *

It’s been almost exactly 24 hours since they first arrived, and it’s a brisk, clear Christmas morning when Eddie pushes open the door to their hotel. His breath is crystalizing in the air, white puffs, and he clutches his hands in his pockets, though they are only slightly tingling.

He makes his way up the creaking staircase, his hand passing over the garland on the handrail absently, and finds his way to their room door. He fishes the key out of his pocket, which is miraculously still there, and opens the door with a creak, stepping aside and pushing it closed.

He stands for a moment, quiet in the Christmas morning.

Then, he lets out a giggle.

**_What?_ **

The giggle morphs into a laugh.

**_WHAT?_ **

The laugh fills his chest and bursts out, sending him to his knees in breathless, reckless absurdity.

“Jesus Christ.”

**_I thought you said you didn’t care about him._ **

He’s laughing hard enough to cough, and he can feel Venom’s bewildered affection as he pats him on the back, waiting for him to come back into sanity.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie says again, and bursts out into another peal of laughter.

* * *

**_You never got the Cheetos._ **

“That’s because you decided we had to go all Santa Claws when we went out for them.”

Venom has made extraordinary gains in the department of Making Appetizing Coffee, but it was still hit-or-miss, and hotel coffee makers and bean bags aren’t exactly ideal. Still, as Eddie is fishing out the present he hastily threw into the suitcase, he can hear Venom pouring it into the paper cup, which means it is at least liquid.

“Hey, bud, I got you something.” He turns around, and Venom is mostly formed out of his side, his white fly-like eyes big and blinking. He opens his fist, and Venom looks down. "Sorry it's not wrapped."

**_I saw you pack those. How are earphones a present for me?_ **

“I know I couldn’t hide what I bought from you, but I also figured you probably wouldn’t get it. They’re special – they block out certain high frequencies. They’re made for people with sensitive ears.”

**_For us?_ **

Venom tentatively reaches over them, absorbing them in slightly. Eddie still isn't entirely sure how that works, but he knows they'll re-manifest when needed.

“For us.”

 ** _Thank you, Eddie._** The earphones reappear to be placed on the bedside table. ** _I also got you something._**

Bemused, Eddie watches as Venom unzips a component of the suitcase that Eddie literally didn’t know existed, and pulls out a tiny plastic snake.

Venom holds it in front of Eddie’s face, and Eddie carefully takes it.

“Uh—”

**_It was advertised as a venomous creature._ **

Venom doesn’t say, but Eddie hears it anyway. _I thought it would remind you of me._

Heart warmed despite himself, Eddie falls in, and feels as he sinks slightly into Venom. He’s able still to reach his arms around and hug, burrowing his face into the not-quite-slimy, unidentifiable skin.

“Thanks,” he mutters, rather indistinguishable, but he’s sure Venom hears him anyway.

* * *

They’re lying in bed – and have been for about six hours – drinking coffee and now watching White Christmas, all while the snow falls soft and fast outside, piling on the windowpane.

The snake and earphones are side-by-side on the bedside table, and Eddie has finally changed into different pajama pants.

He got Cheetos delivered – God bless New York and their plethora of people willing to do shit for money – when he can feel Venom shift in his head.

“What.”

**_Do not rush me._ **

“Whatever.” He reaches down to grab a Cheeto, when Venom speaks, pausing his reach.

**_I am sorry about last night._ **

Venom has a _thing_ about apologizing. Beyond constantly forcing Eddie to do it or taking over his limbs to make him trip, he does it himself far more than Eddie would anticipate. Eddie would love to know what alien mass taught him manners and shake its hand. And then maybe scream at it to ask why those manners didn’t extend to not biting off people’s heads, but you know. Can’t have it all.

“What exactly are you apologizing for?”

**_I made everything worse._ **

“Worse?” Eddie spits out the string of his hoodie he was absentmindedly chewing on. He groans and sits up, rubbing his eyes. Seems like this is a real conversation, then. “It wasn’t bad in the first place.”

**_You were having a bad day. You took the message poorly. I wanted to help, but...I know I am hard sometimes._ **

“You’re soft more often,” Eddie replies without thinking.

 ** _I am trying to be commiserating!_** Venom scream-growls at him, and Eddie winces. **_Support, apathy?_**

“Empathy,” Eddie corrects.

**_Dick._ **

“What is this really about, dude?” Eddie asks, hands gesturing to thin air. "You wanted to make me feel better - fine, I get that, that's very sweet. But what's with the apology?"

There’s a lengthy pause, where Eddie takes a moment to mute the TV, which is on a commercial selling an intensely average broom.

Finally, **_I just don’t want you ever feeling that you’d be better off without me._**

He wonders what instigated that train of thought. Maybe the Mr. Love letter, a job that is deeply tied to Venom in Eddie’s mind. Maybe the night in the jail cell. Maybe during on the many, many unsuccessful locked door tries. Maybe it goes back further.

Any way about it, Eddie opts for honesty. “I already know what I would be like without you. I had like, over thirty years of experience. Didn’t care for it. Don’t worry yourself about something that ain’t ever gonna happen.”

 ** _We?_** Venom says, and Eddie knows exactly what he’s asking.

“We.”

**_Even if I can be difficult?_ **

“You’re worth it,” he tells him firmly. “You’re worth a whole lot of bullshit.”

It’s an interesting feeling, the action of Venom slowly seeping out, covering him from head to toe. It’s intimate. And when it’s not in a high pressure, fight-or-flight, adrenaline-takes-over situation, it’s deeply sensual.

**_I just wanted to give you a good Christmas._ **

Eddie’s mind flips to the phone call with Anne, something he long since dismissed. It didn’t even occur to him that the conversation may have lingered in Venom’s mind.

“You did. Best Christmas I’ve had in a long time, buddy.” Minus the breaking and entering, arrest, and arguments about homicide, it’s been one of the calmest, as well. Family get togethers are a bitch.

The clock on the bedside table flips forward a number, cranberry red letters proclaiming 11:01.

“We should do something else for Christmas before it’s over,” Eddie muses, then feels a thrill of panic. “In this _apartment._ I am _not_ going outside with you again tonight, so help me—"

**_I have an idea._ **

“Oh?”

 ** _I desire you,_** Venom says, pausing for a moment before adding helpfully, **_Sexually_**.

“Okay, yeah.” Eddie flops back down on the bed, feeling his muscles twinge from sitting on a concrete floor for so long.  “Let’s do that.”

**Author's Note:**

> caught between ‘shrug emoji’ and ‘someone please take my keyboard away from me’
> 
>  
> 
> Happy Holidays!


End file.
